


gravity

by pistolgrip



Series: gbf 76 week 2019 [1]
Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Meetings, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 07:17:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19662475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pistolgrip/pseuds/pistolgrip
Summary: From the moment Siete planted his feet in Karm's hamlet, a feeling that had lain dormant in his bones awoke and drove him forward, deeper in.(Happy 06/07/19!for day 1 of siesix week, first meetings.)





	gravity

From the moment Siete planted his feet in Karm's hamlet, a feeling that had lain dormant in his bones awoke and drove him forward, deeper in.

It's never bothered him that his world, at the age of twenty seven, is still black and white. He's met people in the skydom that he's fought against, loved, watched die, and his life feels no less rich than those with colour. He'll listen to others describe the swathes of colours every sunrise, the way their soulmates' faces are painted with colour when they're overcome with emotion, and he feels no jealousy. Simply put, unlike some people he's met, he doesn't make the search for his soulmate his priority.

But the urge that possesses him is separate from the cautiousness that the traps instilled in him, or anticipation about meeting the Erune of legend, the one that killed his entire clan of famed assassins when he was only a child. It drowns the voice of common sense and drags him through the thick of Karm's physical history until he finds a masked figure standing in wait. Something in his heart twists, begging to burst out of his chest, and when the figure speaks, it's as if he took the breath from Siete's lungs to form those words.

"Not many get past those traps in one piece," the masked Erune says as he enters a fighting stance, and the timbre of his voice ignites Siete's veins like gunpowder, firing him into his orbit. "You're either a lucky moron or worth my time. I'm willing to bet on the former."

"Funny, you'd think it would be the latter if you haven't attacked me by this point." Siete's willing to play along, drawing his sword and grinning. "But I like to think I'm interesting, so I don't blame you for stopping to find out more about me."

"What do you want?" He approaches Siete, and the two of them start circling each other. He wonders if the Erune feels the same attraction, the one that makes Siete want to do anything in the world as long as it's with him.

It's not the first time he hasn't gained colours in his life from a meeting as exhilarating as this. But the prospect of a battle with someone of equal strength has his heart racing, and that's what he attaches it to. Siete's grin widens of its own accord. "Just hanging out," he says.

"Lucky moron it is, then," the Erune says, and they enter battle.

Siete's fought many people in his time, all of different skill levels and preferred weapons. But it only takes one unarmed swing from the Erune for Siete to know that whoever he's fighting, he's the _one._ He's the one meant to be the tenth member of the Eternals as their melee fighter; he's the child that the legends spoke of, now grown into a young man; he's the last remaining member of the Karm clan and has remained here since the massacre.

It's impossible to keep him at arm's length, Siete's best range, and yet he feels no fear for his life. The fight only amplifies his hunger to pull the Erune so close that they share the air within their lungs. He feints, letting the Erune close the distance between them, and sacrifices himself to a punch in a gut in favour of clasping his hand around the edge of the Erune's mask.

The punch sends him flying with more force than he expects, and he rips the mask away with him as he gets thrown into the ground. He lands on his side after bouncing once and scrapes his cheek against the earth. His fingers are holding onto the mask like a lifeline, but he doesn't hear the Erune approach him to follow through with another attack, so he gives himself one breath in, coughing at the unsettled dust he breathes into his lungs.

His eyes swimming with tears as he struggles to breathe, he looks up again.

With the mask gone, he makes eye contact for the first time, and Siete feels white-hot electricity strike him and radiate outwards, leaving shockwaves throughout the entire hamlet. The young man's face is unmarked if not for the mole under his left eye and the headpiece against his forehead. His lips are parted with the same icy shock that Siete feels, fist still frozen in the air from where it had collided with Siete's stomach.

His eyes are the same bright _colour_ as the flowers that persist in blooming among the dead hamlet, glowing bioluminescent in the permanent dusk.


End file.
